Sword Arm
by Riley
Summary: Star of the Guardians. "Killing you would have been like cutting off my sword arm...." -- The Lost King


Disclaimer: Margaret Weis owns them; I'm just borrowing.   
  


Sword Arm   
  


Sagan looked at the silver dagger that Fideles had given him. 

The silver dagger that he would use to kill Maigrey. To destroy the one person who had ever been in his life or wanted to be. 

If he accepted it. _If._

The decision was easy, when he looked at that way. 

He flung the dagger into the water, ignoring Fideles' gasp of horror. 

The motion drew the attention of the mind-dead, who raised his beam rifle. 

And fired. 

Tearing, burning pain... centered on his right arm.   
  


*****   
  


Maigrey saw Sagan move, had only seconds to react as the mind-dead raised his rifle. 

Every instinct in her screamed for her to go to Sagan--- but she was a Guardian. Dion was her responsibility. 

She flung herself at Abdiel, getting between her king and danger--- 

Saw the serpent's tooth come up--- 

And brought her hand down on the mind-seizer's wrist, crushing it. 

Abdiel screamed. 

The evil little knife dropped into the water. 

Maigrey looked up in triumph, her eyes searching for Sagan--- 

The burning pain swept through her right arm... even as she saw Sagan, on his knees, bleeding from the stump of his sword arm. 

Mikael the mind dead raised his beam rifle to complete the job he'd started. 

Maigrey saw red. 

A moment later, the mind-seizer's corpse joined his blade in the water. 

Maigrey never heard Mikael's deathscream or the splash as the mind-dead followed his master into the water. Her whole being was focused on Sagan. 

She flew to his side, dropped to her knees beside him. _Derek--- Derek, I'm here---_

He clasped at her mind: a lifeline in the pain that threatened to overwhelm even his formidable self-control. A pain only half physical, the other half born of abject shame: he had failed her, had left her to battle their enemies while he knelt helpless. And beneath it, the humiliation of knowing himself a cripple--- 

_Nonsense._ It was, she noted with the small portion of her mind that was functioning rationally, the same tone he'd used with her when she was acting, in his opinion, foolish. _There are worse fates than being a cyborg._

Sagan shot her a grateful, amused glance from eyes clouded with pain. Beneath his tan, his face had assumed a ghastly pallor. 

Dimly, she was aware of Dion, hovering close. "My--- my lady--- my lord---" 

Sagan looked up at him; Maigrey felt his pain-born impatience and could only hope that Dion would have the sense not to take whatever Derek said _too_ much to heart--- 

Footsteps in the tunnel; Nola Rian came bursting into the room, her eyes sweeping until she found Dion. "Dion, it's Tusk--- he's--- he's---" 

The woman's voice broke; Maigrey's heart went out to her. That's what we get for loving brave men, dear, she thought wryly, tucking herself under Sagan's left arm. He tensed for a moment, then sighed deeply and leaned against her. 

She felt a deep selfish rush of pleasure at that--- that he would finally let her in, let her care for him.... 

Dion was looking from Nola to the two of them. "My lord---" 

Sagan glared impatiently. "Go on, boy---" 

"We'll manage---" Maigrey interjected, heading off one of their damnfool tests of each other. 

Brother Daniel came around to her other side. "Are you sure that's wise, my lady? My lord---" 

"Can manage without the help of---" Sagan began. 

Maigrey took a risk and touched his mind, sharply. She'd never have gotten away with that wordless reprimand if he were functional, but as it was he simply subsided against her. "You and Brother Daniel go on ahead," she said soothingly to Dion, then held out her hand. "Leave me your sword--- I can get enough power out of it to cauterize the... wound---" she fought a tremor in her voice, thinking of the bloody stump on Sagan's other side. 

But Sagan was nodding, very slightly as one does who has to move carefully or lose his balance. Brother Daniel regarded them worriedly, then moved to stand at Dion's side. 

The young king regarded them for a long moment... then slowly held out his sword. "My lady," he said. "My lord." 

"Dion, we need to hurry---" Nola sounded how Maigrey felt. 

Dion turned on his heel and followed Nola out of the cavern, Brother Daniel on his heels, leaving Sagan and Maigrey behind.   
  


*****   
  


Maigrey fitted the needles to her hand, frowning in concentration. "Damn it---" 

Despite the gravity of the situation, Sagan felt his lips stretch in a smile at Maigrey's frustration. _Calmly, my lady_--- 

_Calm, hell!_ she snapped at him--- and with that burst of anger, the sword flared into life, flickering dimly and quite short. 

_Got to do this quickly---_ She drew him around until she could reach his shoulder. 

Searing pain as the blade found his shoulder. He gritted his teeth. 

_Hold onto me_. Her thought was quiet and soothing... and unmistakably _there_. She was with him. 

He held to that thought while she moved the blade over his shoulder, sealing the wound shut. 

_That's it. _She shut off the sword, slid it into its sheath. 

He knew he should try to get to his feet, to go back up the surface; there were so many places he needed to be--- 

But for a long moment, all he could do was hold her to her and thank God that she was alive, that his sacrifice had been enough.   
  


*****   
  


They needed to get back to the surface, to get back to _Phoenix_; his arm... or what had been his arm... needed more than just the cautery. 

But Maigrey couldn't bring herself to break his desperate one-armed hold, an embrace she'd longed for since she could remember. She could only wrap her arms around him and hold tight and devour his closeness. 

He needed her. Needed to know she'd still love him. 

And she needed him. 

For a long time, they simply clung to each other, then, slowly and awkwardly, Sagan pushed himself back. _We'd... best be going, my lady._

_Yes we had._ She got herself tucked under his left shoulder; nearly lost her balance herself from surprise when he accepted her assistance without a murmur. 

She helped him up, then with a careful twitch pulled his cloak to hide the stump of his arm. He smiled down at her, wearily, the sense of his mind grateful for that sop to his dignity and pride. 

Then he leaned on her and kept her near and let her steady him as they made their way to the surface.   
  


*****   
  


Back on the ship, Sagan grudgingly allowed Maigrey to help him to the sickbay; she put up with his mental grumbling, understanding how much it shamed him to need her help or anyone's. Never mind most men would be unconscious. 

On witnessing their entrance, Dr. Giesk immediately set up a near-hysterical fuss. Maigrey shot Sagan a look. _How do you put up with that man?_

Sagan's left hand rubbed her shoulder, his touch light, vague. _He's... effective._

_And he puts up with your... stipulations._ Back in their Royal Navy days, Sagan's disputes with shipboard doctors had been legendary. He had absolutely no patience with being fussed at. 

His lips, gone bloodless with pain and shock, actually stretched in a thin smile. _Were you any better?_

Maigrey sniffed. _Do you really want to have _that_ discussion again? _Maigrey had once kicked a third-year intern's face in during a pelvic examination. And Derek... thanks to the mind-link... had learned a great deal more about female physiology than _any_ man ever wanted to know. 

But the remark served its purpose: it distracted him from the pain. He shot her a wry look. _I'm in a weakened condition._

She was saved from having to answer by, of all people, Giesk, who bustled over to them, fluttering instructions. "My lord's private unit is through these doors, milady---" 

The Blood Royal required different medical facilities from those used by ordinary mortals. For one thing, left to itself, the Blood Royal physiology tended to fight off most chemicals, even the necessary sort, like tranquilizers and anesthetic. Fortunately, the sickbay aboard _Phoenix_ had a separate section designed for Blood Royal and set aside exclusively for Sagan's use. 

So far as anyone knew it had never _been_ used. The Warlord was in frighteningly good physical health. 

Until now. 

Maigrey got Sagan through the doors, helped him to lie down on the bed. He started to push her away, then clearly thought better of it as he nearly lost his balance, and let her help him. 

She sat beside him on the bed as Giesk and several of his med-bots fluttered around, Giesk making inconsequential fluttering noises as he prepared his equipment. 

Maigrey took Sagan's left hand in both hers, held it on her lap. Sagan looked up at her, his expression mingling amusement and annoyance under the pain. _Is it really necessary for you to make such a... spectacle of your feelings, my lady?_

Maigrey clasped his hand in hers, feeling her lips twitch. _Yes, my lord, it is._

He sighed, relaxed under her grip. _If you must_---But she could feel him taking comfort from her closeness, feel some of the tension in him fade as she absently rubbed his knuckles. He needed her; the harsh words were his way of alleviating the shame of such weakness. 

The medbots were stripping off Sagan's armor. Giesk came around to hover at her side. "My lady, if you would please leave---" 

Maigrey regarded the man coolly. "I'm staying right where I am, Doctor." She smiled sweetly. "Just try to remove me." 

Sagan pushed himself upright on his elbow. "The lady stays, Doctor, unless I say otherwise. That's an order." He stared at the doctor a moment, then lay back down. 

Giesk wrung his hands. "But my lord--- there's an issue of surgical procedure--- sterility---" 

"You can use a localized sterile field, can't you?" Sagan snapped. 

"Well, yes, but---" 

"Then I don't see the problem, Doctor. Do as you're told." Sagan closed his eyes, the discussion clearly over. 

Maigrey had to smother a smile. The years had made him no more patient with the medical profession. Not that she blamed him where Giesk was concerned. 

One of the med-bots brought over an anesthetic unit. The image must have leaked from Maigrey's mind into Sagan's; he opened his eyes, glaring at Giesk. "No anesthetic." 

Both Giesk's and Maigrey's eyebrow shot up. _Derek--- this isn't a flesh wound---_

At the same time, Giesk said, "My lord, this procedure requires---" 

Sagan answered them both. "You're putting in the base hookup for cybernetic limbs, aren't you?" he addressed Giesk. 

"Yes, but I don't see---" 

Maigrey did. _You're not---_

_Why not? It's easier than months of physical therapy._ "If I'm awake," Sagan continued, "I can make the adjustments in my nervous system myself, adapt to the... addition." 

"Very well." Giesk waved the 'bot away. "Bring me twenty-five cc's of penthocaine---" 

"No anesthetic, Giesk." Sagan's voice was strained. 

"But my lord--- without a local pain-block---" 

"I'll be able to adapt my nervous system to the new... equipment." Sagan's voice was clipped, terse. 

_You mean, you won't have to spend months as an invalid, no matter what it costs you in terms of agony,_ Maigrey replied to his thought. She stroked his hand, as much a gesture for herself as for him. 

_A waste of time to do otherwise._ Sagan spoke to Giesk. "Get on with it." He closed his eyes again. 

Maigrey rubbed his hand. She should have known he'd do it the hard way. Never mind that even most Blood Royal, no matter how well trained, would have taken at least the local block. Sagan couldn't tolerate even the least sign of weakness in himself. 

Hell, he'd probably find a way to use the bloodsword with his cybernetic arm! 

_Our swords are gone, my lady._ She started; she hadn't realized he'd heard her thought. _But... you raise a good point... I should be able to---_

One of the bots set up the sterile field and the magnifying system that would allow the doctor to work on the nerve endings. Giesk, his eyebrows twitched their disapproval, came forward, the nanoscalpels in his hands. 

Maigrey sat beside Sagan for all of it. Let him clutch her fingers almost to the breaking point. Other than that, he gave no sign of the agony he was feeling, except that his face grew very pale, sweatsoaked. She freed her hand once or twice to stroke his forehead. 

And, when the pain was too great for even him to bear, she took on herself as much of it as she could. 

Because his mind, half-crazed with pain, was finally open to her, and she knew why he was forced to suffer this. 

His sacrifice. For her. For her life. In throwing away the dagger, he'd committed himself to suffer this loss instead. 

Her life, but he paid the price. 

The least she could do was to ease the pain as best she could. 

At some point, she never remembered when, she stretched herself out against him, her head resting on his shoulder and her hands tangled in his. 

Then, finally, it was over. Giesk and the med-bots left them alone, and Maigrey could curl up against Sagan's side as she had done as a child, and hold him close. 

And he wrapped his one arm around her and held on in silent gratitude until they slept.   
  


*****   
  


The next morning. Maigrey woke before he did--- the strain of pain and shock and bloodloss had caught up with him. She didn't need Giesk or his officious med-bots to tell her that Derek would most likely sleep the clock round; she could feel his exhaustion in her own mind. 

She'd have liked nothing better than to set her armor aside and curl beneath the blanket next to him, and rest. She'd been so tired, since before this whole disaster started. And now they were together and she could at last relax.... 

But she had work to do. For him. 

She met Xris in Giesk's office; she'd taken a certain grim pleasure in throwing the doctor out. It should have been Sagan's office, but she found she couldn't leave Derek's side that completely. 

"What's the deal, sister?" the cyborg asked her, and Maigrey felt her lips twitch wryly at his easy familiarity. He dropped into a chair across from Giesk's desk, behind which she sat. 

"I'm sure everyone on this ship is aware of what happened to my lord," she began. 

"About his arm, you mean? Yeah." Xris' voice was subdued. "What's that got to do with me?" 

This time, she let the smile come. "I should think that would be obvious." She looked pointedly at Xris' own bionic arm. "I want the designs for your arm." 

The cyborg laughed. "There's more than one type of arm I use, sister---" 

"I know. I want all of them." She stared at him coolly. 

And fought the butterflies in her stomach. Xris was the best; it wasn't likely she'd find anything better than his... equipment. 

The cyborg, meanwhile, had gon serious. "That's a tall order, sister--- and they're not cheap." 

"I'll pay." She folded her arms across her chest. 

The cyborg stared at her for a long moment. "Let me see him." 

Maigrey bit her lip. Derek would _not_ appreciate being put on display--- "Why?" 

Xris shrugged. "Call it professional curiosity; if the man's going to be wearing _my_ equipment, I need to see the hookup." 

Maigrey knew that wasn't the reason--- Xris could have looked at medical files for that. She wasn't sure in fact what the reason was. 

She made her decision. She'd just have to see to it Derek didn't find out. 

Giesk's office was fitted up to monitor all the patient rooms in sickbay; she punched in the codes for Sagan's private unit. At the sight of the list of passwords to access the cameras in his wing, she bit her lip to keep form laughing... or crying. 

The image came up on the wall-sized monitor. She studied the image of him, matched it to her sense of him through the mind-link: the haggard features that matched the overflow of pain and weariness in the link, the socket on his right shoulder that matched the dull pain and electric flickers that she could _feel_on her own skin if she concentrated hard enough. She bit her lip. 

Then looked up--- to find Xris staring, not at Sagan's image, but at her. 

"That's what I wanted to know," the cyborg said. 

"What?" Maigrey asked, more sharply than she'd intended. 

"Why you were doing this." The cyborg leaned back in his chair. "What he meant to you." 

In her current state of tension, Maigrey would have punched anyone else who'd said that to her. But Xris... Xris had told her about _his_ wife, about what he'd lost. She remembered what she'd said to him, about why his wife hadn't left him. _Maybe you didn't read the fine print._

Maybe she hadn't either. 

The cyborg glanced over at the monitor, then back to her. "Tell me something, sister---" he got to his feet, leaned over the desk, in her face. She didn't flinch. "What are you going to do--- when he puts his hand on you--- like _this---_" 

The cyborg's bionic hand shot out, wrapped around her arm, painfully. 

She looked up at him calmly. And smiled, slowly and sensuously. "That," she said, "will be entirely between Derek and myself." 

The cyborg held her eyes for a second, then drew back. "You're something else, sister." He stared at her for a long moment. "There a nanoshop on this beast?" 

Meaning the ship; she cringed at the thought of Sagan's reaction to that description of his flagship. "Probably several." 

"I'll put a few things together--- a man doesn't want to wake up with only one arm." He snorted. "And I'll send the rest of the plans through to the ship's computer." 

Maigrey let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Thank you," she said quietly. Then, remembering herself, "How much will it---" 

Xris held up a finger. "Got a question for you, first." 

"All right." She sat back in her chair. "Fire away." 

The cyborg leaned against the wall, crossed his arms. "Why are you doing this for him?" 

She stared at him for a moment, tempted to order him out. Then she remembered why she needed him... what she needed to get from him. 

"There are a lot of answers to that question," she said quietly. 

"Shoot." Xris wasn't letting her off that easily. 

She took a deep breath. "First--- because he lost that arm for me. Because of a sacrifice I wasn't willing to make." She ran her hand down the armor, shuddering inside. It had been worth her life... a life that hadn't seemed worth much--- not knowing if he loved her. 

Hell of a time he picked to prove it. 

Xris regarded her thoughtfully; she stared back, daring him to ask her to elaborate. Finally, he shrugged. "What else?" 

"Because eighteen years ago... he offered me something very precious, really impossible in fact--- and I rejected it, because I didn't understand what he was offering." 

It hadn't been until that night at the Adonian's--- looking into his eyes and seeing how he dreaded the vision of her death--- that she'd understood. The night of the revolution, he hadn't simply been seeking power, at the cost of honor. That night... he had offered her everything he could believe she'd wanted. And asked only that she love him. 

Which was all she had wanted--- to love him and be loved in return. 

That was why she'd run: because if he offered it to her again... she'd accept. The hell with her oath. Derek... Derek was more; was everything. 

She hadn't realized she'd fallen silent until Xris coughed. "That's it?" His voice was neutral; too neutral. 

She laughed. "And if I said it was?" 

"Then I'd say you were a damn fool... like my wife," the cyborg said coolly. "But I don't think that's what you are." 

"Thanks," she said dryly. "And you're right... at least, that it's not all there is." She got to her feet, moved around to face the monitor, to watch Derek... to keep her mind on why she was doing this. "You don't know--- you can't know--- what it's like, sharing your mind with another person." 

"No, I guess not." The cyborg's voice was for once almost respectful. 

"I was six when the mind-link formed between us," she said quietly. Xris had told her his story; he deserved the same in return, she supposed. "Six. I'd only just been taken from my home, from everything I'd known... and there he was. He was everything I could have... could have wanted--- not just in a man, not some ideal white knight that a little princess dreams of---" she realized her voice had risen; she controlled it--- "In a _partner._

"I had that... all through my childhood. Had someone I could count on completely. Until one day, I turned around and it was... just gone." She drew a deep breath, turned around. 

"That's why I'm doing this," she said. "Because I was his partner, and he was mine... and I don't want to lose that again. Because this time, I'm going to _be_ a partner to him, whatever it costs." 

Xris regarded her coolly, then pushed himself off the wall. "Fair enough." He started for the door. 

She blinked. "You haven't named your price." 

He turned back. "You just paid it." 

And smiled. 

For a long time after he was gone, she sat in the office, staring at nothing in particular... thinking of nothing in particular. 

Who would have thought that Xris of all people would understand?   
  


*****   
  


Sagan, true to form, woke early and unexpectedly. 

The unexpected part was at least partly Maigrey's fault; she'd insisted that he be moved back up to his private quarters, so that he could wake up in a place that his subconscious would be likely to consider safe. 

Also, so that she could snuggle in beside him... _without_ her armor playing chaperone. 

Not that either of them would be much in the mood for loving. But she did want to feel the warmth of his body against hers, flesh on flesh, and to hold him. 

Which she did, curling against his side on the bed. Not that she needed to cuddle close; the bed was triplewide. One of the odd little changes on _Phoenix II_ was that the command suite had clearly been designed for _two_. 

When she'd returned to the ship after her self-imposed exile, _that_ discovery had given her a start. That Sagan had all-too-clearly intended for them to share this place... and, by extension, the rest of his little empire. 

She could have cursed herself for leaving him. 

Well, she had the chance to make it up to him.... 

Which had been her last thought before falling asleep, her head on his shoulder. 

She awakened to feel him stirring against her, to the light touch of his mind on hers. _My lady?_

She came awake fully. _My lord?_

He started to push himself upright; with her resting against his good arm, he couldn't manage. She sat up quickly. 

The lights in the bedroom responded to their movement, coming up; Maigrey reached out a hand, dialed them down to something less intrusive. 

Sagan settled back, half-sitting up against the pillows, reached out his hand to her. _Thoughtful ofyou_. He jerked his chin around, meaning her decision to move him. 

_I thought you'd appreciate it._ She held his hand, firmly. _I had Xris make me copies of the designs for his arm--- they're probably in the computer. _She started to get up. _I can call them up---_

_That can wait._ He pulled her back down to his side. 

A long, tense silence, with too many things they wanted to say to one another. Sagan broke it, the tone of his thoughts deliberately wry. _I suppose you used my accounts to pay for the cyborg's designs---_

She felt her lips twitch... then her guts knot up. How was she going to explain _that_ to Sagan? _He said he'd do it for free---_

Sagan looked at her sharply. 

_He had a wife too, once._

Sagan's expression, no less intent, grew gentle, amused. 

She blinked... then, realizing what she'd said, flushed, turned her face away. 

She felt his hand draw away from hers... come up to stroke her cheek, brushing tenderly over the scar. 

Another silence, just as tense, less painful. 

She broke it, feeling obligated. _I'm sorry._

His hand paused in its gentle caressing. _What for?_

The question was almost laughable. _My pride... my honor... cost you your sword arm._ She ducked her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair. 

Sagan brushed the pale strands back from her face, cupped her cheek in his hand and forced her to look at him. _I said once that killing you would have been like cutting off my sword arm._He let his hand fall back on the bed, wrapped it around hers. _An imminently satisfactory trade, in my opinion._

Holding her eyes with his, he pulled gently at her hand, drew her down to rest against his side. _Are you going to stay... this time?_

Leave it to Derek to turn what amounted to a proposal into an occasion for recrimination. She smiled against his chest. _Make it possible for me to, and I will._

He sighed, long-sufferingly--- but she sensed the contentment in his mind. _Which, I suppose, means that we'll have to suffer through Dion's kingship._

Maigrey thought about what she'd seen in Dion's mind... of her goddaughter. _Only if he insists._

Sagan twisted his head to look down at her. She returned the look with wide, mock-innocent eyes. 

His laughter went through her soul like champagne. _Indeed._

And then for a long time they lay together in the near-darkness and starlight, holding each other. 


End file.
